Feel My Pain (Curse Bound 1)

He pulled the vibrator out of him on impulse and dropped it onto the bed, so tired that moving did not seem like a viable option for long minutes.

Sleep had almost claimed Zane back, but the insistent buzz of the toy made him finally land back in the present, so he could switch the thing off.

Totally worth it.

Despite Roach’s spent dick shrinking slowly, when he collapsed on Zane, trapping his face between his thighs, he was still panting, and small shivers made his muscles twitch every now and then.

He ran his tongue along the inner side of Zane’s thigh then nuzzled it without a word.

“Good puppy,” Zane whispered, grinning at the ugly lamp above as he patted Roach’s ass in appreciation. “I think we should get up early more often.”

“I give up.” Roach sighed. “I’d even take a cold shower for this. I had no idea just how gay I was.”

Zane’s chest swelled with pride. He’d done this. He’d been the one to mold Roach into this wanton, sexy creature. “On the scale of gay to Evangelical, you are definitely pretty gay. But you haven’t eaten my ass yet, so there’s still room for improvement.”

“‘Cause you won’t let me,” Roach grumbled, trying to turn them around but only making them more of a tangle of limbs in the process.

Zane hummed, stretching out on the bed to make things easier. “That’s because I don’t trust your dumb brain to stick to what you’re supposed to do.”

Roach smirked at him, sitting up slowly. “You’re just scared I’ll be so good at it you’ll beg for my dick to finish the job.”

Bastard was getting far too cocky for his own good.

And the worst thing was that he learned so fast he might just be right. And Zane wouldn’t risk going there. Not with anyone, and definitely not with the guy who’d caused him so much misery.

Roach cocked his head to the side and ran his thumb over Zane’s wrist. “What’s this from?”

Zane stilled, his gaze stopping on his hands. Fuck. He’d forgotten to put his bracelets back on. Nausea passed through his mind as he remembered the green cloth of the pool table rubbing his cheek, but he pushed it down, intent to not let this little stumble spoil his day.

“Same as my other scars,” he said and cleared his throat. “We have an appointment later.”

Roach groaned, reaching for some tissues. “What’s this again?”

Zane rolled to his side and stared at the movement of muscles beneath Roach’s beautiful, sweaty skin. He reached out and slid the back of his hand along Roach’s spine. He enjoyed the comfort of moments like these, when they were both sated and he didn’t even feel inspired to speak mean words. “This guy who runs a podcast about the paranormal. I contacted him, and he said he might know how to help.”

“No… No, no, no! Zaaane…” Roach groaned and rubbed his face. “We’ve been down that road. It’s pointless.” Roach grabbed a pair of boxers and started putting clothes on. Weirdly enough, the fact that he wouldn’t be taking another shower was kind of a turn-on. It was as if Roach didn’t want to wash their juices and sweat off him just yet.

“What’s the harm? We’ll just have breakfast with him in the diner.”

Roach took a deep breath as he pulled on a T-shirt. “Okay. What time?”

“Nine.”

Roach glanced at the little timer on the microwave, then at him. “Have you been messing with the clock?”

Zane rolled to his stomach, knowing it would present Roach with the perfect view of his un-touchable ass. “No. Why?”

“Then we’re ten minutes late already. If you wanna go, get dressed.” Roach sped up the process of getting dressed and went from zero to a hundred as if he’d forgotten about his own wedding.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Zane rolled out of bed and opened the closet, frantically pulling on the first clothes that fell into his hands. His wardrobe was simple enough that everything fit together anyway.

Sweaty and still smelling of sperm, they stepped into the cold, and the first gust of wind penetrated the layers of clothes he’d put on for the brief walk to the diner. Fuck. He would usually be someplace much warmer at this time of year, but damn Roach had messed up his plans and kept him in this cold-ass dump.

“Jesus. What the hell happened to the weather since yesterday?”

A howl of wind answered him by bringing a few snowflakes to greet him.

“Oh, come on. We’re just a few yards away from hot coffee,” Roach said and jogged toward the diner that winked with its neon on the background of a grey sky.

“Hot coffee doesn’t help if I have to go back the same way,” Zane shouted back, jogging past Roach and along the truck stop shivering each time the wind thrust at him, piercing his flesh with tiny needles.